


Third Choice

by penguingal, Schnaucl (Onetrackmind)



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Incest, M/M, comment porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-12
Updated: 2006-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:38:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguingal/pseuds/penguingal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onetrackmind/pseuds/Schnaucl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Don gets a promotion he decides he has to end his relationship with Charlie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Don's kiss was sweet and tender. Charlie made a soft sound of pleasure as his brother slipped Charlie's shirt off and let it fall to the floor. He took his time lavishing attention on the newly exposed flesh, lingering as though he were trying to commit it to memory.  
  
He wrapped his arms around Charlie's waist, holding him close and feeling the warmth of his skin, inhaling his unique scent. Charlie's hands tugged at his shirt and Don stepped back enough to let Charlie remove it, stroking a tender hand down his cheek and smiling softly when Charlie nuzzled into the touch, dark eyes smiling at him warmly. It twisted his heart, but he battled those feelings down again. They were for later. Now, he wanted to be here, totally and completely.  
  
Charlie tilted his head up to claim another kiss, playing gently with Don's tongue. He wrapped an arm around the back of Don's neck to hold his head steady, then let it slide down his back as he kissed his way down Don's chest.  
  
His eyes rolled back in his head as Charlie's hot mouth teased at his flesh, and with an effort he refocused on the room, wanting to see everything Charlie was doing. His hands worked between them, pulling on the belt of Charlie's jeans. He didn't want to rush any part of this, but he had to see Charlie naked and now. Leaning down to kiss him slow and heated, Don turned them so Charlie's back was to the bed, walking him steadily backwards until his knees struck the mattress.  
  
Charlie's hands fell to Don's waist, pulling him closer for more kisses, parting his lips to allow Don's tongue entrance. Don's hand pressed into the small of his back, the other wrapping around Charlie's neck. At last he moved down, kissing a trail down Charlie's body until he reached to remove his pants.  
  
Don knelt at Charlie's feet, running his hands along Charlie's legs as he opened his belt and popped the fly on his jeans. Charlie's hands caressed his shoulders, he always did love feeling the latent strength in them, and Don smiled. "Talk to me, Charlie. Tell me how much you love me."  
  
"Love you so much, Don," he said, groaning. "You're all I've ever wanted. All I could ever want."  
  
Don's heart twisted again and he ducked his head, kissing Charlie's abdomen to hide that he was biting his lip. His hands worked confidently, stripping the rest of Charlie's clothes and nudging him to sit on the bed. "Love you, Charlie," Don murmured. "Never forget that."  
  
"Wasn't planning on it," he said lightly. He scooted up the bed and sprawled across the bed in open invitation.  
  
He couldn't help grinning, standing long enough to give Charlie a brief strip show, pushing his jeans over his hips and kicking them into the corner. "You are so amazing, Charlie," Don whispered, crawling over him and licking at his skin. He wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him firmly, wanting to see Charlie's neck arch back in pleasure.  
  
"Don!" He arched and moaned, one hand clenching the sheets. He spread his legs wider, pushing up for a kiss. "Don."  
  
"Charlie," Don groaned, claiming his lips passionately, devouring his mouth and sucking on his tongue. He pulled a drawer open, pulling out the lubricant. "Need you."  
  
"Have me," Charlie said instantly. He pulled Don in for another long, linger kiss. His brother's touch was tender--almost reverent, and Charlie tried to make his own actions match the mood. "Love you so much."  
  
Don grunted, kissing Charlie's chest, sucking a nipple between his teeth. "Love you." He slicked two of his fingers generously, sliding them deep into Charlie and nudging at his prostate. "So beautiful," he murmured. "Love hearing those sounds drip out of you. Let me hear you, Charlie."  
  
Charlie obligingly moaned and whimpered, his hands caressing Don's back and shoulders restlessly. He cried out in pleasure as Don touched his prostate. "Don please, please!"  
  
Unable to delay any longer, Don scissored his fingers gently before removing them to slick his cock and position himself so he nudged at Charlie's entrance. He leaned down to kiss him again as he rolled his hips, pushing into him in one steady, sure thrust. His eyes filled and a tear threatened to spill over at the sheer aching perfection of Charlie's body underneath his, but he blinked it back, concentrating instead on the effort not to move until Charlie told him it was okay.  
  
Charlie whimpered and started to move, encouraging Don to settle into a rhythm they both found enjoyable. He loved feeling this connection. He kissed Don, fiercely at first, then gently, drawing back a little to meet his brother's gaze.  
  
Don couldn't meet Charlie's eyes for more than the length of a heartbeat, seeing the pure love and affection written on his face was too much. He closed his eyes, abandoning himself to the pleasure singing along his nerves. He pushed into Charlie a little harder, moving a hand to stroke Charlie's cock firmly, wanting to give his brother as much as he could.  
  
Charlie shuddered, burying his face in the crook of Don's neck. "Please Don," he whispered. "Please!"  
  
"Come on, Charlie," Don purred. "Come for me." He shifted the angle of his thrusts aiming for Charlie's prostate, losing himself in the pleasure of Charlie's body.  
  
Charlie's hands clenched on Don's back and he closed his eyes and cried Don's name as he came.  
  
Don gasped, the feel of Charlie's orgasm nearly tipping him over. He thrust deep twice more, shaking through his release, dropping his head to Charlie's chest and moaning. "Charlie," he whispered.  
  
"Don," he whispered back, cradling Don in his arms. "Love you so much."  
  
Don gulped, swallowing hard past the lump in his throat. "Love you, too." He arranged himself carefully next to Charlie, letting him pillow his head on his chest, his fingers caressing his abdomen. They talked sleepily about nothing until Charlie drifted off. Don stayed awake, caressing Charlie's skin lightly, just watching him in the soft light from the street light outside.  
  
....  
  
Charlie opened his eyes with a groan, automatically turning into Don. It took a moment for the bloodshot eyes to sink in. He frowned. "Hey. Did you get any sleep?"  
  
"Not really, buddy," Don said, running his fingers through Charlie's curls. "Listen, I need to talk to you about something."  
  
"Okay... what's going on?" Charlie asked, pushing himself into a sitting position.  
  
Don pushed himself up to sit next to him, staring at his hands in his lap. "I wanted to tell you earlier but--I've been offered a promotion and I'm going to take it."  
  
"Don! That's great!" Charlie said, leaning in to kiss him, but Don put a hand on his chest, pushing him gently away. "Don?"  
  
"We-we can't do this anymore, Charlie," Don said quietly. "I can't do this anymore."  
  
Charlie's brow creased. "Why not? Don, this promotion... does it involve a transfer?"  
  
Don shook his head. "No. No, I get to stay here in LA and I'll even get to keep doing fieldwork. But more responsibility means more scrutiny and--and I just can't take that risk."  
  
"We could--"  
  
"No, Charlie, we can't. I'm sorry."  
  
"You're sorry," he said dully. He gave a bitter laugh. "We risked _everything_ and after ten months you just unilaterally decide--and last night was what, a good-bye fuck?"  
  
"I don't have a choice," Don said, trying to keep his voice even. "They're going to be looking at me under a microscope, Charlie, and I know I don't have to remind you that what we've been doing for the last 10 months is also illegal. I'm not just talking about my job here." He took a deep breath. "I wanted us to have one last perfect night together before I told you."  
  
"You could have--" No, Don couldn't have turned down the job. "You know," he said quietly, "I always knew I was third in line, but I thought you'd at least consult with me before--"  
  
"Charlie, you know you're not th--"  
  
"Shut up," Charlie whispered. "Just shut up." He got out of bed and started getting dressed.  
  
Don watched him, biting his lip against the emotions that threatened to swamp his reason. This was the right thing to do, he was sure of it, and he'd known it was going to hurt. Still, he wasn't prepared for the gut wrenching pain pulling at him. He told himself that this was for the best. Charlie would be pissed and wouldn't want to see him and it was good. It was for the best.  
  
"Don't you have anything to say to me?" Charlie asked as he pulled on his shirt.  
  
Looking up at him and meeting his eyes, Don shook his head. "I'm sorry."  
  
There was nothing he could say to that that wouldn't sound childish. Don had made his choice, and it hadn't been Charlie. It would never be Charlie. How could it be when Don didn't even respect him enough to talk to him before deciding?  
  
He left the apartment without another word.  
  
Don stared at the empty space where his brother had been for a long moment, the sound of the door slamming behind him echoing in the small apartment. His stomach lurched and he raced for the small bathroom, the bile rising in his throat. He knelt on the floor, retching into the toilet and when he was done, he curled his arms around his legs and shook.  
  
Don at least had the decency to break up with him on a Saturday morning. That gave him the rest of Saturday, Sunday, and Monday before he had to teach another class.   
  
After leaving Don's apartment he drove a few blocks before pulling over to the side of the road. He cried until he thought he'd made himself sick, giant sobs that wracked his body and made his throat and eyes burn.   
  
He wasn't enough. He was never, ever going to be enough.  
  
Don spent the weekend doing everything he could to keep himself busy. He normally would have spent the time with Charlie, going on a hike or driving or just wrapped up in bed in each other, and now he was gone the apartment seemed too big for just him.   
  
Monday morning rolled around and Don pulled out his best work suit. He was going to start his new position, meet his new teams, and he wanted to look his best. Some of Charlie's jackets were still hanging in his closet and Don paused, his fingers caressing them lightly. Rubbing his eyes, he shut the door quickly. He had to focus now. There was work to be done. Straightening his tie one more time in the mirror, he took a deep breath and carefully pushed aside the empty, hollow feeling in his gut.  
  
Charlie alternated between sharp pain and fierce anger. He spent Sunday hiking and Monday in the garage trying to focus on his research. The hardest part was not showing what he was feeling when he was around other people. A typical fight with Don wouldn't leave him feeling this devastated, this raw.   
  
He knew their father would want to have a celebratory dinner as soon as he heard about Don's promotion. Every time he thought about it he felt sick. But as much as he might want to, he couldn't beg off, not without raising all kinds of flags for their dad. And after all, there were appearances to be maintained. He wondered in a sort of detached way if after discarding him Don would now set his sights on the other things that would make him look good, make him fit into the FBI hierarchy. A wife, 2.5 kids, a dog. Probably not a white picket fence, given the property values in LA. Dad would be thrilled.  
  
Don met with his team first, assuring them he'd be accessible to them. He was still leading that team, at least for the time being until they found someone to replace him or they promoted one of the current team members. And when Megan asked if Charlie was thrilled because now he might have a chance to work on a wider variety of Bureau stuff, Don just nodded and offered a noncommittal, "You know Charlie."  
  
Then he met with his two new teams. There were going to be some interesting personalities, he could tell, but overall, things went smoothly. Around lunchtime he settled into his chair in his brand new office, picked up the phone and called the house, wanting to share the news with his dad.  
  
Charlie heard the phone ring but ignored it. Several minutes later his dad came into the garage. "Donny got a promotion!"  
  
Charlie flinched, but he was facing the board so he didn't think his dad noticed. "That's great, Dad," he said, hoping he sounded distracted instead of wounded.  
  
"We're going out for steak tonight, I want you to come with us."  
  
"Yeah, sure," he said, continuing to write on the chalkboard. It was just gibberish since his dad had come into the room, but he wouldn't know that.   
  
"Okay. I'll come collect you when it's time." It was the tone he used when he was sure Charlie hadn't heard a word he'd said.   
  
"Uh huh."  
  
When his father was safely gone he picked up the eraser with shaking hands and erased the lines of gibberish, then picked up where he'd left off.  
  
Don had tried to talk his dad out of the dinner, but he was adamant that a celebration was called for. He was going to take his two sons out for some decent steak. He pushed his feeling of apprehension down. They'd pretended nothing was going on between them in front of their dad for months now. Why should tonight be any different?  
  
He sat in his parked SUV for a long moment outside the house before taking a deep breath and going inside.  
  
Charlie was ready when Don got there. He didn't meet his gaze, but did offer a quiet, "Hey."  
  
"Hey," Don replied, just as quiet. He stood in the center of the room, his hands in his pockets, and did not approach. He heard his dad upstairs and smiled a little to himself to think he otherwise would have been dragging Charlie into the garage, stealing kisses like a couple of teenagers, instead of waiting in this awkward silence. He wanted to be able to say something to make it better, but he didn't know what, so he stayed quiet.  
  
Charlie glanced upstairs before speaking in a low voice, "I will still help you with cases if you need it, and I suggest you ask because otherwise it will look strange. At the office and the house, nothing changes. There will be times I tell Dad I'm going over to your apartment so that he doesn't suspect anything, but I'm not going over there again. I will try to let you know ahead of time so you have some warning if Dad wants to reach me for some reason."  
  
Don's mouth dropped open and he stared at his younger brother for a long moment before nodding. "I--I'm glad you still want to help and I agree with you on the other stuff. You um, you have some clothes at my place still. You know where I keep the key if you want to grab them when I'm not there or I can bring them by. Whatever you want to do. I'll cover for you with Dad."  
  
Charlie gave Don a bitter smile. "You're not covering for me, you're covering for you. Unless you want Dad to start asking questions about why I'm suddenly not going over to the apartment anymore. You can leave whatever I've left over there in the garage." He didn't plan on going to Don's apartment again unless it was absolutely unavoidable.  
  
A little stung, Don backed up a step, but he said nothing. He'd expected Charlie to be beyond pissed off and he figured he deserved whatever rancor was sent his way. It didn't change anything. Swallowing a few times, choking back the other emotions that threatened to swamp him, he managed a choked, "Fine."  
  
A dozen different ways to explain himself, to get Charlie to understand the situation he was in flicked through his mind, but all of them sounded trite and would likely have been unwelcome. Fortunately, he was saved by his father making his way downstairs.  
  
"Donny! Congratulations!" Charlie moved aside to let his father give Don a celebratory hug. "I don't suppose this means you'll be safe behind a desk?"  
  
"No, Dad, I'll still get field time," Don said, rubbing the back of his neck.   
  
"Charlie, have you congratulated your brother yet?"  
  
"Yeah. C'mon let's eat. I'm starving."  
  
Dinner passed easily enough, long practice of talking about the "right" things in front of their father giving them enough to fill the empty spaces. Don talked about his new teams and one or two of the more colorful characters. He mentioned to Charlie how excited Megan was for him, that he'd get to work on a variety of cases now, and he was gratified to see at least the ghost of a smile cross his face, even if he knew the smile wasn't at all for him. Don came back to the house afterwards long enough to say goodnight and he and Charlie found themselves alone again. He looked in Charlie's eyes. "I really am sorry, Charlie. I wish it didn't have to be like this, but deep down, you know it's for the best."  
  
Charlie narrowed his eyes. "You know, you can be a real asshole. You've already dictated how it's going to be and now you want to tell what I'm thinking and feeling. Fuck you."  
  
"Charlie--" Don started. "That's not what I meant, really. I'm sorry. I'm just going to get out of your way." He grabbed his coat. "Good night."  
  
Charlie didn't stick around to say good night. What he wanted to do was slam the door on his way to the garage, but then he'd have to explain to their dad, and he didn't want to do that either.   
  
It _hurt_ , dear God how it hurt. He blinked furiously because goddamn it he was _not_ going to cry. After he was sure Don had left he locked the front door and got his bike out of the garage. Math was good for grief. It was less helpful for anger. He picked a direction and just rode as fast as he could.  
  
Don climbed into his SUV without looking back. He wanted Charlie to understand but he would never do that, not while he was pissed off. And he didn't know what to hope for, Charlie's anger or his understanding. He pulled out of the driveway and headed for home.  
  
....  
  
It was two weeks before Don asked for his help with a case. In that time he'd attended family dinners three times and Charlie had been to his office twice. Making things appear fine for Don's sake was a very small part of the reason Charlie did it. Don was still his brother, after all, even if he was no longer his lover or even his friend. But mostly it was out of pure self-interest. He didn't want to deal with questions he couldn't answer or try and keep track of lies. He did try to minimize his time alone with Don, also out of self-preservation.   
  
He made his way through security and walked into Don's new office.  
  
"Hey bu--Charlie," Don said, looking up from the case file he was studying, offering a gentle smile. "Everyone else is in the conference room already. How are you doing?"  
  
"Fine. Let's go."  
  
Stunned, Don took a deep breath and gathered up the files, following Charlie at a safe distance. He was sure he deserved everything he got, but the last two weeks had been hard on him. He'd never quite realized before exactly how empty his apartment was when Charlie wasn't in it, how quiet it was without him babbling about his latest discovery. And every time he felt his gut twist, he just looked around his office and reminded himself it was for the best.  
  
He held the conference door open for Charlie and sat in his normal chair. "Megan, why don't you run the case for Charlie."  
  
Charlie greeted David, Colby and Megan, then took his accustomed place to the side.   
  
Megan gave a concise, thorough briefing. Charlie already had a few ideas before she was finished.   
  
He was busy sorting through the case file when Megan entered the room, closing the door behind her. "Is everything okay, Charlie? You seem...tired."  
  
He forced a smile. "I've just been staying up late working. You know how it is when you have a line of thought you want to pursue..."  
  
She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Well, we like seeing you. Don's been doing a good job in his new position. He seemed to take well to it."  
  
"Thanks," he said quietly. He smiled softly at her when she left.  
  
Don entered and sat at the far end of the table from Charlie. "Thanks for coming in on this. I appreciate it. Do you have any ideas?"  
  
"Yeah. I should have something to you in a few hours, tomorrow at the latest. I'll let you know if I need any more information." There was a moment of silence. "Megan thinks you're doing a good job," he said quietly, still looking at the information in front of him rather than his brother.  
  
"Yeah, okay," Don said, pushing out of the chair, hearing the _fuck you_ Charlie wasn't saying. "I'm not sure if Dad told you, but I'm supposed to come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll probably be a little late. But I'll see you then. Thanks again." He left before Charlie could sting him again. He didn't know how long his punishment was going to last, but he didn't have to sit in the same room and take it.  
  
It took Charlie most of the night to finish the equation. He gave his results to Colby, and later heard from David that they'd caught the guy.   
  
He seriously considered skipping the family dinner. If Don was going to be late it would be easy to claim he was busy, especially since he'd just spent a chunk of time working on Don's case. But in the end he decided he'd save that option for another time.   
  
So when Don finally got there, late as promised, he said, "I heard you caught the guy. Congratulations."  
  
"Yeah, according to David it was quite the grab. I with one of the other teams." Don tossed his jacket on the chair and sat, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Thanks for your help on that case. I know it helped quite a bit. Would have taken us a lot longer to find him otherwise."  
  
"You're welcome. Dinner's almost ready. Dad's been waiting for you." He turned his attention back to his book.  
  
"You know, I know you're pissed at me," Don said, voice soft and dangerous, "but back when we started you swore--you swore to me no matter what happened, it wouldn't change us as brothers. And even on my worst day as your older brother, I would never have pretended I didn't care." He pushed himself out of his chair and stalked across the house, heading into the kitchen to look for his father. Don didn't expect Charlie to be excited or even happy to see him, but some basic common decency wasn't too much to ask. He'd had a victory and a minor defeat today and he was exhausted with trying to keep up and his bed was too empty and cold without Charlie and he hadn't been sleeping well and all he wanted was for someone to _notice_.  
  
Charlie shook with a fresh wave of anger. He swallowed a few times, schooled his expression into something approaching neutrality and went into the kitchen. "Hey, Don, can I show you something in the garage?"  
  
As soon as the door was closed Charlie began speaking, his voice matching Don's earlier tone perfectly. "I am doing the best that I can. It is taking everything that I have not to let on that my heart is broken, that I cry myself to sleep more often than not, that it _hurts_ to see you or hear your voice or even your name. It's exhausting. Right now I'm focused on holding myself together and if that's not enough for you that's just too damn bad." He jerked his bike out and opened the garage door. "Tell Dad I wasn't hungry."  
  
"You wait just one fucking minute you arrogant little shit," Don said, stalling Charlie's escape. "If you think this is easy for me, little brother, think again. You think you have a corner on pain? You think it doesn't kill me every damn time to walk into my apartment and not have you waiting for me? To know I can never touch you again? To see you hurting and know I was the cause of it and be utterly powerless to put things right? But I did what I had to do. I did exactly what I always do, what was expected of me to keep this family safe. To keep us out of _jail_. And I wish we lived in a different world and that it didn't have to hurt us, but I can't help that." He turned on his heel and started out of the garage. "Tell Dad you're not hungry yourself." He walked out of the garage without looking back, made an excuse to his dad, work of course, and left, barely fighting the urge to slam the door.  
  
Charlie slammed his fist against the chalkboard and cursed as the physical pain hit. Goddamn fucking _selfish_ son of a bitch! How dare he? How dare he play the wounded fucking martyr! Don had a _choice_ , which is more than Charlie had had. And he'd chosen his career over Charlie and heartbreak and then had the fucking _gall_ to say it was to protect his _family_? Bullshit. If it had been about protecting the family Don never would have fucked him in the first place.  
  
Don came home to an empty apartment? Well boo fucking hoo. It had to be easier coming home to an empty apartment where he could fall apart if he needed to than it was to come home and have to pretend all the damn time. To not let himself show anything until after he was damn sure Dad had gone to bed.   
  
Fuck him. Fuck it all. He was done. If Don wanted his help on a case, he'd help. But he was through making little visits to the office for the sake of appearance. If people wondered why, Don could fucking deal with it.  
  
It was another week before Don and Charlie saw each other again, at another family dinner Don couldn't manage to worm his way out of. He and Charlie barely managed to look at each other, and he couldn't take it any more. After dinner, he cornered Charlie in the garage again. "I'll make this quick," he said softly. "I'm sorry. I am truly sorry about all of this. Hurting you was never what I wanted. Not in a million years. And I was out of line to make this decision without you and then assume I knew how you were feeling. I've been a complete ass, and I understand if you hate me." He took a deep breath, looking at his brother's back, stiff with emotion. "That's it."  
  
Charlie swallowed and turned around. "I am trying, Don. I do--I do still care about you, obviously, or it wouldn't hurt so fucking much. But--I can't be your friend right now. I'm sorry. I'm just--too raw. Given enough time and space, I think it's a possibility in the future. But right now, it's just too close," he said, his voice as gentle as he could make it. He'd moved into a sort of numb acceptance. And while Don's apology did help a little, it was too soon to even start to become close to him again. He swallowed. "I don't know if I hate you, Don. But I know that I still love you. That's all I can give you right now."  
  
Don dropped his head and looked at the floor, blinking furiously against the sudden tears. He clung desperately, stubbornly to the idea that he'd done the right thing under the circumstances because otherwise he might ask for Charlie back. Because he still loved Charlie, too. "I understand," Don said softly without looking up. Tears he'd been holding back for weeks now welled in his eyes but he couldn't let Charlie see him cry. "I-I have to go," he said, turning abruptly and just hoping he could make back to his SUV before he lost it. He paused at the garage threshold. "I still love you, too, Charlie," he managed, voice choked and watery. "I always will."  
  
Charlie locked the door to the garage and cried. For the first time the tears weren't bitter or angry. It felt like--release. Healing. It still wasn't okay, it wouldn't be okay for a long, long time. But it was a start.  
  
Don climbed almost blindly into his SUV but only made it a block away when he had to pull over, unable to keep the sobs back any more. He cried long and hard, curled over his steering wheel, crying the way he'd cried for his mother, for a loss so permanent and profound there was nothing else to do. He cried until his eyes stung and his throat was raw. And when he was done he felt just as miserable and wretched as before. He put the car in gear and headed for his empty apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a little over five weeks since the breakup. Maybe it was a sign of progress that he no longer thought of it in terms of minutes and hours and days. Things had been better since Don's apology. He was slowly starting to heal. Enough so that he stopped by Don's office around 12:30 and found his brother hard at work. He knocked lightly on the doorframe. "Hey. Any chance you can break away for some lunch?" he asked lightly.  
  
"Hey, Charlie," Don said, glancing up. He looked quickly at the clock on his desk. "Yeah, I can break away for about half an hour. I have a meeting at 1." He scribbled a note and tried to hide the deep breath he had to take before he stood. Things with Charlie had evened out at least. They could finally be around each other alone without inflicting more wounds, but every time he hung out with Charlie, it just made the emptiness in his gut a little more profound. He kept it bay by throwing himself into his job, but more and more he was growing to resent his empty apartment.  
  
They made relatively easy small talk on the way to the cafeteria, Charlie choosing a sandwich, some chips, a soda, and dessert while Don opted to just grab a bottle of water.  
  
"Is that all you're going to have?" Charlie asked.  
  
Don shrugged. "Not really hungry." The truth was he couldn't really remember the last time he had a decent meal, at least one that wasn't practically force-fed him by his father. But it was just another thing he pushed aside so he could focus on the work.  
  
Charlie ate in mostly comfortable silence for a few minutes. He looked at Don, hesitated, and then said carefully, "Have you been sleeping okay? You look a little tired." He tried to keep his voice neutral so there was no way Don would take it as an accusation. He liked this level they were on and he had no desire to provoke another fight.  
  
Don rubbed his eyes. "I've been sleeping okay, just not as much," he admitted, though it was only a half-truth. He'd found it was much harder adjusting to an empty bed than he thought it would be. "There's a lot to get a handle on here and I'm on a pretty steep learning curve. Should settle down soon, though." He offered half a smile, wanting to assure Charlie as much as he could. The last thing he needed was for Charlie to tell Dad he hadn't been sleeping. He'd never hear the end of it, and he didn't feel like trying to explain. To either of them.  
  
"Okay," he said. He was pretty sure that wasn't the whole story, but he wasn't in a place yet where he felt comfortable pushing. "I'm sure things will settle down and you'll do great." It was an honest observation, when had Don ever _not_ been great at his FBI job? He couldn't quite bring himself to say that the FBI was lucky to have him, which was also true, so instead he said, "Did you see any of the game last night?"  
  
"Thanks, Charlie," Don said softly. "I appreciate that." He battled back the urge to touch Charlie, even if it was just to nudge his foot affectionately the way he would have if they'd still been together. It took a lot of his strength and he almost bolted from the table, but Charlie changed the subject and he was able to take a deep breath and relax. They talked for a little bit about the pitcher and his average until Don looked at his watch. "I'm sorry I have to cut this short. There's some stuff I need to grab in my office before I have my meeting." He stood. "I'll see you at dinner at the end of the week?"  
  
Charlie nodded and Don smiled softly, waving goodbye. It took whatever strength he had left not to turn around and look back. Once safely inside the elevator, alone, he started shaking, just able to get it under control as the doors opened on his floor.  
  
He missed Don's touch. Craved it. But despite all the progress they'd made they almost never touched. It was still too painful, too intimate for both of them. He hoped it would get better in the future, that there would be a time he could casually touch Don's arm in greeting or in passing.   
  
He didn't see Don again until the family dinner. Charlie wasn't avoiding him, they just had conflicting schedules. When he did see Don again he looked even more tired than he had earlier in the week. "Hey," he said softly.  
  
"Hey," Don replied, shrugging his jacket off and easing himself into a chair. He rested his head in his hands and did his best not to let his eyes slip closed. The exhaustion was bone-deep now and if he slept, he knew he'd be asleep for at least a day. All he really wanted was to be in his apartment, curled up on the sofa with Charlie curled against him, but he tried not to think about it. Almost six weeks since he'd pushed Charlie away and the reasons for it kept getting less clear to him, all the reasons sounding more and more ridiculous. But he was an Eppes, which meant he was stubborn, and as much as he wanted Charlie back, he still clung to his decision. "Where's Dad?"  
  
"In the kitchen. He went out with that catering lady again, you remember her? I think they had a good time. You still look tired."  
  
Don nodded. He knew he should say something, at least make an attempt at explaining, but he didn't know where to start. Instead, he changed the subject. "So what are we having for dinner?"  
  
"Rib eye," Charlie said, grinning. "With potatoes and everything."  
  
"Oh thank the merciful heavens," Don grinned, loosening his tie and getting a laugh from Charlie. Their eyes met for a brief moment and it almost felt like things were normal again between them, like Don could squeeze Charlie's shoulder and look into his eyes and they would both know that Charlie would end up in his bed later that night. But Charlie dropped his eyes and the moment passed, leaving Don with that now familiar aching feeling in his gut. He cleared his throat. "So, how've you been doing? How's the research?"  
  
"Good, it's been going good." He was happy to prattle on about his work, glad to have the distraction from the painful moment. "You want a beer or something?"  
  
"Yeah, sure, thanks." Don watched Charlie retreat into the kitchen and for a moment he seriously considered bolting from the house, just taking off before he had to endure any more of this torture. But just at that moment, his father came in and with him came the smell of good food and for the first time in a week, Don's stomach showed interest. He sat down at the table and mercifully there were no more painful moments that evening. He left, telling his dad it may be a couple weeks before he could come by for dinner again. He retreated with a quick good night to Charlie, escaping as soon as possible.  
  
Charlie watched Don go, trying to ignore the ache in his heart. Don didn't seem angry, just... tired. It hurt a little that Don wasn't planning on coming by the house for a while, but maybe trying to adjust to this new aspect of their relationship and trying to deal with his new position at the same time was just too much.   
  
He wanted to give Don space if that was what he needed. It was much easier when they were at a truce and Don was just busy with work. Not easy, but easier than it had been when Charlie had stayed away because he was angry and hurt.   
  
He called a few times just to check in. Quick conversations about nothing much because he didn't want to lose the small progress they'd made toward reconciliation. Charlie wasn't angry anymore, and the hurt was beginning to heal.   
  
He definitely wasn't over Don, not by a long shot. He probably never would be. He still dreamed of him, his bed still felt lonely and his heart continued to ache. Don was always going to be the love of his life, the man against whom he measured all others. But after two months he was ready to try to start the process of moving on. He started going to clubs again, not really looking to pick someone up or be picked up, just to hang out.   
  
He met Jason on his fourth visit. He was blond with blue eyes and a killer smile. Tall, but not too tall. Strong. He was a member of the LA PD.  
  
Nearly three months after Charlie broke up with Don he had his first date.  
  
....  
  
Don was falling apart. At least, if anyone had been looking closely they would have seen that. At work, he kept up all the right appearances, and no one seemed to notice the persistent dark circles under his eyes or that his suits seemed to be hanging off him a little more. He threw himself into the job, managing that way to not have to see Charlie for long stretches. He showed up early and stayed late so he wouldn't have to be in his empty apartment for anything but sleep.   
  
Nearly three months after he'd broken up with Charlie, Don was working late in his office, making notes and catching up on paperwork. His cheap, government-issue pen dried up and he nearly threw it across the room in his exhaustion. Instead, he tossed it in the trash, where it landed with a satisfying thunk and started rooting around in his desk for a new one. It was filled with papers and random detritus, but typically, no pen. He pulled everything out and started sorting through it, realizing a lot of it had traveled with him from his old desk and had never been pitched. Most of it was briefing memos, which were long out of date, but he stopped when he got to a paper just filled with numbers. It was a love letter Charlie had written him a few months into their relationship. It didn't say much, just explained in detail all the things Charlie loved about Don, from his hair, to his clothes, to the shape of his cock. He remembered blushing deeply when he'd figured that part out but grinning too. He concluded the letter by saying he loved him with all his heart and always would.  
  
Don placed the letter on his keyboard and stared at it for a long moment, the emptiness in his heart threatening to consume him finally. He looked around his office, feeling cold, feeling nothing at all, and then looked back down at the letter, feeling a residual warm glow in his chest. He'd been so stupid to think the job could make him as happy as Charlie did, to make him feel as fulfilled as being with Charlie did. He pounded his fist on the desk and bit his lip, keeping the tears inside. He was tired of crying about this, of feeling nothing but despair. Now it was time for him to act. He stood up and shoved the letter in his pocket, racing out of the building. It was just around 9:00. Charlie should be at home working. He hopped into his SUV, feeling lighter and happier than he had in months. He only hoped Charlie would forgive him, take him back.  
  
He pulled into the driveway and bounded up the steps, letting himself into the house as always. He found his Dad sitting in his chair reading.  
  
"Donny!" Alan stood, taking off his glasses. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"  
  
"Everything's fine, Dad, I just need to speak to Charlie. Where is he?" Don looked around the room distractedly, as if Charlie might suddenly appear out of thin air.  
  
"He's not here."  
  
"What he's still at CalSci?" Don asked, already taking three steps toward the door.  
  
"He's on a date."   
  
Don stopped, frozen to the spot. "He's what?"  
  
"He's on a date. With a guy named Jason. They met at a club last week and they're on their first date. It's the first time in months I've seen Charlie excited about something and you are not going to ruin it for him, okay?"  
  
Don's mouth dropped open and his legs wobbled. The small balloon of hope in his chest suddenly deflated and he could feel his insides crumbling. He was too late. Charlie had moved on.  
  
"Donny, are you sure everything's okay?" Alan asked, putting a hand on his eldest son's arm. "You look awful. And you've lost weight."  
  
"I'm-I'm really tired, Dad," Don admitted softly, still not able to move from where he was standing.  
  
Alan gently pulled him over to the couch. "Stay here tonight," he said, arranging a pillow for Don's head and urging him to lie down. He took off Don's shoes and tie, helped him pull his shirt out of his pants, and covered him with a blanket. He pressed a kiss to his forehead like he used to when Don was a boy and put a hand on his shoulder. "Sleep, my boy. Everything will look better in the morning."  
  
Don nodded and when he was sure his father had gone upstairs, he cried long and hard for the life he'd so casually thrown away and for the empty future he could see laid out in front of him. He cried himself into an uneasy sleep.  
  
....  
  
It was strange kissing a man besides Don. Not that he and Don had ever really been able to do the good night kiss thing. But still, it caused a moment of panic and then irrational guilt. The second kiss went better.   
  
Charlie was smiling when he carefully closed and locked the front door and he almost missed the dark form asleep on the couch. Almost.  
  
Don stirred a little when he heard the door open, blinking his eyes in the dark. "Charlie?" he said sleepily. "'S that you?"  
  
"Yeah, it's me," Charlie said softly. "Can I turn on the light?" His first instinct was to ask if everything was okay because he hadn't seen Don for _weeks_ and it was disconcerting to find him asleep on the couch. But the last thing he wanted to do was put Don on the defensive.  
  
He sat up and rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, sure." His voice was tired, hollow and Don wished he could make it sound some other way, but he just wasn't capable of that. He blinked in the light but was able to look up.  
  
"Jesus, Don," Charlie whispered. He looked awful. Thinner and so very, very tired. Charlie had obviously misjudged Don's need for space, and badly. He should have been there, making him eat, making him sleep. How had it ever gotten this bad? For the first time in his life Don looked _old_ , broken.  
  
"I know. I look like shit," Don said softly, rubbing his eyes. He didn't know what to say or what to do, so he looked at the floor.  
  
"Well, I wasn't going to say that, but yes. Have you been working a difficult case or something? Not that I'm not glad to see you, but what are you doing here? Why now?"  
  
Don opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. If Charlie had moved on, maybe it'd be unfair of him to tell him why he'd come over. But he was too tired to think of a plausible reason, so for once he let his heart speak for him. He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, looking at the floor. "I wanted--I came by because I wanted to ask you to come back. I want you back, Charlie. Nothing else matters. Whatever life I had was good because you were a part of it. I see that now." He sighed, continuing very softly, without bitterness. "But I guess it's too late for that. I hope--I hope you had a good time on your date." Pushing himself up slowly, he managed to stand. "I'll just--get out of your way." He started to take a few steps and wobbled on tired, unsteady legs.  
  
Charlie stared at him, shocked. He'd been completely blindsided. He automatically reached out to steady Don, trying to get his mind to focus. "Don't be ridiculous, you're not in my way. But we should--we should think about this, both of us. You're obviously exhausted and I don't know if that's clouding your judgment or if you really mean it or--we should think about it," he said again. "But you need sleep first, a clear head. And food. Come on, I'll help you to your bed upstairs. Don't argue with me, you can barely stand let alone drive and sleeping on that couch is uncomfortable as hell."  
  
It was the first time in three months Charlie and Don had touched, and Don had to bite his lip hard to keep fresh tears from spilling over. He let Charlie help him toward the stairs, but pulled him to a stop at the foot. "I don't need to think about it, Charlie." He pulled the now creased and crumpled love letter from his pocket and pressed it into Charlie's hand before letting his brother help him up the stairs.  
  
Charlie put the letter in his pocket without looking at it, knowing immediately what it was, trying to concentrate on helping Don up the stairs while _not_ concentrating on the fact that it had been so damn long since they'd touched. His whole body felt as though it were hard wired to respond to that touch. He got Don settled into his bed, hesitated, then kissed his temple. "Sleep. We'll talk more tomorrow."  
  
After Charlie was gone, Don pressed his hand to his temple, still feeling the ghost of his lips pressed there. He ached, down to his very soul. He'd been such an idiot. They'd become pros at keeping the best thing in their lives hidden from everyone else. What had made him think they couldn't have found a way to deal with the increased scrutiny? What had made him think he needed his job more than he needed Charlie? And now it was too late. Resigned and empty, he closed his eyes, exhaustion finally taking him over. He figured he'd be asleep for a long, long time and only hoped either Charlie or his Dad thought to call the office for him.  
  
Charlie lay awake for a long time. He still didn't know what to think. He was afraid to hope that Don really meant what he said because if he let himself believe and it turned out to just be the product of exhaustion--the pain would be unbearable. And was he really ready to risk it all--again?  
  
....  
  
When Don cracked his eyes open, the afternoon sun was pouring through his window. He stretched, rubbing his eyes. They stung from all the crying he'd done and they felt raw. He blinked a few times, pushing himself to a sitting position and looking around his room. A fresh set of clothes had been placed on the chair in his room and Don managed to make it out of bed. He discarded the rumpled suit and pulled on the jeans and soft shirt that were there. He felt in his pockets but he had no idea where his keys were. Probably down stairs. His stomach rumbled and Don realized for the first time in a while he actually felt hungry. He made his way down to the kitchen, running his fingers through his hair and raided the fridge. There was a note on the surface.   
  
_Charlie called the office, explained to Megan. You're taking two sick days. Today and tomorrow. Rest. Eat. See you later, Dad._  
  
Smiling a little to himself, Don took the note off the fridge and tossed it in the garbage. He drank some juice and fixed himself a bagel, wondering what he was supposed to do next.  
  
Charlie looked up from his position on the couch when Don wandered into the living room. "You're up. And you're eating," he said, pleased.  
  
"Yeah," Don said, looking at his bagel and taking another bite. He sat in one of the chairs near the sofa. "Thanks--thanks for helping last night. And for calling the office." He wasn't sure what else to say. He wanted to talk about last night, wanted to convince Charlie he'd meant what he said, but he didn't know how to start.  
  
"Any time. Eat your breakfast, then tell me what's been going on with you," Charlie said, his voice gentle.  
  
Don ate in silence for a while, finishing up his bagel and trying not to stare at Charlie. He swallowed his last bite and cleared his throat, getting Charlie to look up at him. "I-I don't know where to start."  
  
"Start anywhere," Charlie encouraged him.  
  
He took a deep breath. "Well, it's pretty obvious I haven't been eating. Or sleeping. I've been able to keep it together at work, keep up appearances, but last night. I don't know. I was working and my pen ran out of ink and I was looking for a new one but instead I found that letter, the one you'd written to me for our three-month anniversary. Remember? And I remembered how warm and loved that made me feel and I looked around my office and felt--nothing. My job can never make me feel the way you did--do--and I was stupid to think it was more important than you. But I guess I came to my senses too late. I hope--I hope this Jason guy is good enough for you," he finished softly, looking at his hands.  
  
"Don, it was one date, not a lifetime commitment." Charlie paused, chewing on his lip for a moment. "I have to know, is this because you're lonely or because you miss _me_?"  
  
Don took a moment to think about it and finally shook his head slowly. "No, it's you. I miss _you_. I miss hanging out with you and talking to you. I miss the smell of chalk in my apartment. I miss your curls on my pillow. I miss feeling you pressed against me." He sighed. "I know I don't deserve to get you back, not after what I did, but I love you, Charlie. You're the one thing in my life that was always good."  
  
"And your job?" he asked quietly. "What about the promotion? Or the one after that or the one after that?"  
  
"Fuck the job," Don said quietly, but with force. "It's just a job. If I were to get promoted again, we'd figure it out. And if we couldn't, I'd turn it down. Hell, I'd quit tomorrow if it'd do any good. I get it now. I wish I'd gotten it sooner. You're way more important to me than any job could ever be. I thought--I really thought I was doing what was best. Protecting both of us from someone finding out, but I can't function without you. We'd have to be extra careful, but I think we can make it work."  
  
"Are you sure, Don? I mean, really, really sure? Because I honestly don't think I could forgive you if this happened again. And I'd rather have this--as--as pale as this is in comparison, than go through that again. So just--be sure."  
  
Don pushed himself out of his chair and crossed to the couch, sitting next to Charlie. He placed a tentative hand on his knee. "Look at me, Charlie. I'm a mess. I'd never survive something like this again. I'm yours, if you still want me, for as long as you want me."  
  
"You know," Charlie said, covering Don's hand with his own and hoping his brother didn't feel his trembling, "I knew even before I went out with Jason that you were the love of my life. The standard against which I'd measure all others--and find them wanting."  
  
Sucking in a sharp breath, Don squeezed Charlie's fingers, fresh tears making his eyes sting. His throat worked for a moment before he found his voice. "There won't be any others," he said quietly. "I'd-I'd like to kiss you. Can I do that? Can I kiss you?"  
  
Charlie swallowed hard and nodded, not trusting his voice.  
  
Don placed a soft hand on Charlie's neck, drawing him gently forward and pressing their lips together. The kiss was undemanding, sweet and lovely and Don felt a weight lift off his chest. He hazarded a smile and then kissed Charlie again.  
  
Charlie returned the kiss, sweet and tender. He was still hesitant, afraid to really trust again. He felt tears on his cheeks, Don's or his own, he didn't know and didn't care. He _needed_ this.  
  
"God, Charlie, I am so sorry," Don said, leaning his head on Charlie's forehead, his thumb stroking his neck and his other arm encircling his waist. "I'm sorry I was such an idiot. I know it'll take some time before you can really trust me again, but I swear I'm going to make it up to you. Can--can you ever forgive me?" His tears dripped down his cheeks, falling unheeded between them.  
  
He considered his answer before nodding. "Yes, I think I can. And you're right, it will take some time to get back to that level of trust we had before. But Don--I don't want you to feel like you're being punished."  
  
Don cupped Charlie's face in his hands. "It's the last three months that I've been punished for my own stupidity, Charlie. Having you back, even if I have to work to get you back can only be good for me. And I hope for you, too." He pressed their lips together again. "I love you."  
  
Charlie waited until Don was looking at him before whispering, "You _are_ good for me. And I _do_ love you, so very much." This time the kiss was a little more heated and he held Don as tightly as he could. "Promise me," he said, not relinquishing his hold. "Promise me you'll eat and you'll sleep and you'll stop looking like death on a triscuit."  
  
Don grinned, placing swift kisses to Charlie's cheeks and jaw and nose. "I promise, Charlie, I promise. Won't do anything to separate us ever again." He pulled Charlie close, kissing him fierce and passionate. His fingers slipped under his loose t-shirt, caressing the warm skin lightly. He was a little breathless when he pulled back and his head swam. "I must still be a little tired," he murmured, mostly to himself. "Do you think--do you think we could just sit here together for a while? I seem to sleep better when you're close."  
  
"Of course. Dad's not going to be home for a while, why don't you put your head in my lap and try and get some sleep?"  
  
"I love you, Charlie," Don said softly, kissing him again. He stretched out on the couch, his head on Charlie's thigh, feeling him stroke his hair softly as his eyelids drifted shut. He fell into an easy, dreamless sleep.  
  
Charlie let him sleep, just keeping him close, stroking his hair over and over again. He let himself really look at Don while he slept, and he didn't like what he saw. But Don would be okay now. He'd promised to eat and sleep and he'd be okay. He never should have let it get this far.  
  
Don snuggled down into Charlie's heat, loving the feel of him pressed against him. He slept for what felt like a long time before he stirred again, blinking his eyes open slowly. He nuzzled into Charlie's touch, pushing back into Charlie's hand and groaning happily. He rolled onto his back so he could look up into Charlie's eyes. "Hey," he said softly.  
  
"Hey," Charlie said, offering a smile. "Feel any better?"  
  
"Much," Don said, stretching a little. He reached up and pulled Charlie down for a kiss. "I'm actually hungry again."  
  
"Good," Charlie murmured, claiming another kiss. "Has Dad noticed yet?"  
  
"Yeah. He was here last night when I came in. He put me to bed on the sofa like he used to when I was a kid," he said softly. "I forgot how good how that can feel. But I'd rather be tucked into bed with you," he smiled.  
  
"Yeah, me too. What are you hungry for?"  
  
Don played with Charlie's hand. "I don't know. I'm thinking maybe some Chinese food, maybe back at my apartment?" he suggested tentatively.  
  
"I'd like that," Charlie said quietly. "I'll leave a note for Dad. Tell him you'd rather sleep in your own bed or something and I'm going along to make sure you don't fall out."  
  
Don laughed, a real laugh, probably his first in three months and he pulled Charlie into a kiss. "Good, I'm glad." He lay back on the couch and stretched out as Charlie went to write the note for Dad. He felt happy, relaxed, for the first time in months.  
  
"Ready to go?" Charlie asked, standing over him, pressing a hand to his cheek.  
  
He pulled Charlie down on top of him on the couch, kissing him fiercely, wrapping his arms around him. "I am now," he purred.  
  
Charlie laughed and snuggled against him. "Love you so much," he said, just letting himself enjoy the contact for a few minutes. "Come on. I'll drive, you order the food."  
  
"Whoa, no way, little brother. I'll drive, you order the food," Don said, letting Charlie help him off the couch. "Speaking of which, do you know what I did with my keys?"  
  
Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled them out. "I took them last night just in case you woke up this morning and decided to try and escape."  
  
"Can I have them back, please?" Don said, holding out his hand.  
  
"Maybe," Charlie said, putting them behind his back and smiling at him, teasing.  
  
Don smirked and walked over slowly, running his hands down Charlie's arms to his hands, leaning down and kissing him deeply.  
  
Charlie smiled and moaned appreciatively. "God I've _missed_ that," he whispered. He claimed another kiss and let Don take the keys from him.  
  
"Me too," Don whispered, just holding Charlie for a moment. "Come on, let's get back to my apartment," he said, putting an arm around Charlie's shoulders and starting to head for the door. "Hey," he pulled them to a stop, "I love you."  
  
"Love you, too," Charlie said, tugging Don down for another kiss. Charlie kept his hand on Don's knee when they got in the car. Now that he had permission to touch again he felt like he'd never be able to stop.  
  
The ride back to his apartment was quiet, but comfortable. Don felt a strange flutter of nervousness go through him as he parked and made his way inside with Charlie. Would the painful memory of that night be too much for Charlie, even now? He hoped not because he really liked his apartment. But he'd move if he had to, if that's what it took to have Charlie back with him. He bumped into Charlie playfully in the elevator, getting a smile from him and a playful shove back as he was on the phone ordering the food, making sure to get Don's favorite.  
  
Charlie hesitated outside the door to Don's apartment, struck by the force of emotion associated with his last visit here. His vow never to come back. He reached over and squeezed Don's hand tightly.  
  
"You sure you're okay with this?" Don asked, squeezing his hand back. "We don't have to do this today, you know. We--we can wait. I can wait for the food, meet you in that park nearby..."  
  
"I'm okay, Don," he assured him. "But thanks for offering."  
  
Don glanced around the hallway quickly, making sure it was empty before running his finger along Charlie's chin and kissing him softly. He opened the door and pulled Charlie gently inside.  
  
Charlie melted against him, just holding Don tightly, reconnecting with him.  
  
Moving behind him, Don kneaded his shoulders gently as he walked him over to the couch. He had three months without contact to make up for and he intended to do everything he could to do so. He positioned Charlie in the V of his legs, strong hands working the knots of tension out of his shoulders one by one, sometimes leaning down to kiss the nape of his neck. "I missed you, Charlie. Didn't realize how ingrained you'd become," he said softly.  
  
"Me either," Charlie said softly. "I always felt like something was missing. At the end--I was trying to give you space. I thought that's what you wanted. I hope you didn't think--"  
  
"Shh," Don soothed him, kissing his temple and still rubbing his shoulders. "I was so twisted around inside, seeing you just made me ache all over and I was desperately trying to hide it. In the end, I stayed away because I thought I could get used to it. I couldn't. I need you."  
  
"I need you, too," Charlie said softly. He brought a hand up to rub gently along Don's arm.  
  
Don tipped Charlie's head back against his shoulder, kissing him deeply, letting one kiss turn into another, breaking off only because the door buzzed. "Food's here," he said softly, pecking Charlie on the lips. He extracted himself from his brother's body gently. "Be right back."  
  
"You better be!" Charlie called cheerfully.  
  
Don grinned and double-timed it to the door, lighthearted to have Charlie teasing him and bantering with him again. He paid for the food and came back into the living room, pulling cartons from the bag. He grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and sat next to Charlie on the couch, pressed against his thigh. Now that he had him back in his life, he didn't want to be too far away. At least not for a while.  
  
Charlie smiled and leaned against him contentedly. "Love you."  
  
"Love you, too, buddy," Don said, ruffling his hair a little. They ate in comfortable silence for a while, Don eagerly shoveling food into his mouth now that his appetite was back. Toward the end of the meal, he cleared his throat. "Not to bring up what might be a touchy subject, but, um, Jason. What are you going to tell him?"  
  
"That I got back together with my ex," he said, shrugging. "If it's all right with you I'll see if he wants to be friends."  
  
"Yeah, that's okay." Don played with his food for a moment. "You know, in a way, I'm almost glad you went out with him. If something ever happened to me--"  
  
"Don't, Don," Charlie cut him off, putting his food down.  
  
"Charlie, I'm just saying, I'd want you to--"  
  
Charlie kissed him fiercely. "I just got you back, I don't want to think about losing you. Just don't right now," he whispered.  
  
Don pressed his lips together, but he nodded. "Okay, you're right." He put his food on the coffee table and kissed Charlie again, taking his time, relearning his taste and feel. He threaded his hand into Charlie's hair and wrapped the other around his waist, pulling him close.  
  
Charlie went willingly into Don's embrace, licking at his mouth until all traces of other taste were gone and all that was left was Don. He devoured the wet heat like he was starving, needing to memorize that unique taste all over again, reassert his claim.  
  
"Mmm, Charlie," Don moaned. "Feels so good to have you in my arms again." He broke the kiss just long enough to push Charlie gently down, letting him stretch out on the couch, before covering him with his body. He wanted to feel Charlie, run his hands over his body, remind himself how perfect his brother was.  
  
"Could do this the rest of my life," Charlie murmured against Don's skin. "Stay like this forever and it still wouldn't be enough."  
  
Don nodded, starting to lick and nip at Charlie's jaw. He carefully straddled a thigh, his knee between Charlie's legs, his hands caressing his body. His fingers slipped easily under Charlie's t-shirt, teasing at the warm skin. "Love you so much, Charlie. Want you forever."  
  
"Promise?" he whispered.  
  
"I promise," Don whispered, pressing his lips to Charlie's temple. "Forever." He nibbled on Charlie's neck. "Want to feel you, your skin."  
  
Charlie looked up at him, wide-eyed, and nodded. "Could we--could we stay out here?" He wasn't ready for the bedroom yet, that place where Don had said good-bye.  
  
"Sure thing, buddy," Don whispered heatedly into his skin. "Whatever you need." His hands slid up under Charlie's shirt, baring his stomach. Don scooted farther down the couch in between Charlie's legs, kissing the inch of skin available to him.  
  
Charlie moaned and arched, hands restlessly caressing Don's back. He slipped one hand under the hem, finally touching warm skin.  
  
"God, Charlie," Don moaned. "Please. Need you."  
  
"You have me," Charlie promised. He gave Don a searing kiss and tugged at his shirt.  
  
Don pushed Charlie's shirt off, casting it aside carelessly. He swirled his tongue around Charlie's nipple, sucking it into his mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head at the familiar taste and the feel of his warm skin under his hands.  
  
Charlie shuddered and held Don close. "I've missed your smell," he said, nuzzling Don's neck.  
  
"I've missed you, too, everything about you." Don nibbled on Charlie's skin, his hands starting to work at Charlie's belt. "Your taste, your smell, your feel," he murmured. "God you are so amazing. I am so lucky."  
  
Charlie wiggled and squirmed, trying to help Don get him out of his clothes. He tugged impatiently at Don's shirt, grinning when he finally got it off. "Mine!"  
  
Don laughed, his eyes crinkling when he smiled and he finally finished stripping Charlie's jeans. He stood, making sure to keep eye contact with Charlie as he pulled his own jeans off. The couch was just a little too narrow for him to do it lying down, at least without sending Charlie tumbling to the floor. Naked at last, he descended on Charlie again, wrapping his arms around his back and pulling him close, just feeling their skin pressed together. Slowly, he sat back on his knees, pulling Charlie with him and urging him up so he could stretch out. Don pulled Charlie down again, sitting so he could straddle his lap, giving him access to all of Charlie's skin and throat, allowing him to run his hands freely along his back. "Tell me what you want, Charlie," Don whispered, voice low and husky. "Tell me what you need."  
  
"You," Charlie whispered back, one hand stroking Don's cheek. "You're all I've ever needed or wanted."  
  
Turning his head, Don kissed the inside of Charlie's wrist before pulling Charlie down into a hungry kiss. His hands stroked Charlie's back before drifting down to his ass and squeezing, his dry fingers just teasing at the cleft. One hand worked its way around Charlie's hip, his fingers teasing at his length before wrapping around his cock and stroking him firmly.  
  
Charlie moaned and shivered. "Want you inside me, Don. Please."  
  
"Whatever you want, Charlie," Don murmured into his skin. "Do you want to stay here or...?"  
  
"Here, please. The bedroom is too--"  
  
"Shh, I know," Don soothed him, "but I'd like a chance to replace that memory with a new one, one that starts our life together fresh. Doesn't have to be tonight." He tapped Charlie lightly on the back. "You do have to let me go in there for a second at least. I don't have anything out here to make this easier on you."  
  
"We'll sleep there tonight. But our first time--we could use the floor if you think it would be more comfortable."  
  
Don leaned forward and kissed him again. "Make yourself comfortable on the floor. I'm going to go grab the lubricant and I'll be right back okay?"  
  
Charlie made a nest out of the pillows and throws on the couch and waited for Don's return. He felt oddly nervous, like it was his first time with Don instead of ... well, whatever number they were up to now.  
  
Don smiled at him as he returned, dropping down next to him, pulling him close and kissing him deeply. "I love you, so much." He caressed Charlie's skin. "Do you want me to go slow?"  
  
"Please," Charlie whispered.  
  
Don kissed his way down Charlie's body, sucking a nipple between his lips and teasing it with his teeth. His hand caressed Charlie's hip as he worked his way down, licking and sucking at all his sensitive places, reacquainting himself with them one by one before sucking just the head of his cock into his mouth.  
  
Charlie was squirming and writhing with pleasure long before Don reached his cock. "Don!" He whispered his brother's name over and over again, reassurance and confirmation. His fingers restlessly traced Don's skin, relearning each scar, each place that could make him shiver or whisper his name.  
  
"Mmm Charlie," Don moaned. He took Charlie in deeper, tonguing at the sensitive ridge and swirling his tongue around the head, reveling in the taste of precome on his tongue. He played with Charlie's balls, waiting for the high note of urgency in his voice before pulling back and grabbing the lubricant, kissing the inside of Charlie's thigh tenderly as he slicked his fingers.  
  
Charlie whimpered, shuddering in pleasure when Don's lips touched his thigh. "Love you," he whispered.  
  
"Love you," Don whispered back, sliding the first slick finger deep inside him. Charlie was tight, warm, and Don's cock twitched in anticipation of him burying himself deep inside that heat once again.  
  
Charlie moaned and squirmed a little, impatient to have Don inside him. "I need you."  
  
"You have me," Don assured him, sliding a second finger next to the first. He wanted to move slowly, give Charlie what he wanted, but he could sense the need in him. Quickly, he added a third finger, being almost as careful as he had their first time, never wanting to do anything that might hurt Charlie. He kissed Charlie's thigh again as he slicked his cock, positioning himself at his entrance, the head just penetrating. He needed Charlie to be sure, as always.  
  
Charlie looked at him wide-eyed and brought his hands to wrap around Don's shoulders and nodded. "Please," he whispered.  
  
Kissing Charlie's chest and collarbone, Don rolled his hips, slipping inside in one slow, steady push until he was fully sheathed in the tight heat of Charlie's body. He just held for a long moment, fresh, joyful tears threatening to well in his eyes, the beauty and perfection of Charlie always making his heart twist. "God _Charlie_ ," Don moaned.  
  
"Don!" He moaned and held Don tightly, eyes suddenly blurred with tears. "Never thought I'd have this again."  
  
"Me either," Don admitted, pulling out slowly and thrusting back in, his mouth dropping open around a silent moan. He dropped his head to kiss Charlie tenderly. "I'm glad we were wrong." He set an easy, smooth pace, one that would build both their pleasures slowly, let them experience this for as long as possible.  
  
Charlie smiled and stroked Don's cheek, pulling back a little so he could look Don in the eye.  
  
This time, Don met Charlie's gaze easily, letting the warmth and love in those familiar brown eyes seep into him as he moved, drawing soft sounds of pleasure from Charlie. Each new grunt or moan, each soft exhalation of his name, and Don could almost feel the wound in his soul starting to heal. He kissed whatever skin he could reach, licking away the salty sweat, as he slowly upped his pace, starting to drive them inexorably toward the brink.  
  
Charlie whispered Don's name over and over, wanting to crawl inside Don and not ever come out. "Don please, please," he whispered.  
  
Don wrapped a hand around Charlie's cock, stroking him firmly in time to his thrusts. "I'm right here," he panted. "Let go and I'll catch you."  
  
Charlie cried out, burying his face in the crook of Don's neck and abandoning himself to sensation.  
  
He wrapped an arm around Charlie's shoulder, pulling him as close as he could, pressing their bodies together. Charlie's breath was hot on his skin, and Don lowered his head, nipping at his shoulder as he thrust deep twice more, crying out as he came.  
  
Charlie's soft cries mingled with Don's until he, too, went over the edge, whispering Don's name.  
  
They held each other close, waiting for the shaking and the aftershocks to subside before Don slid back, slipping out of Charlie's body and rolling to the side. He gathered Charlie in his arms, pressing soothing kisses to his cheeks and neck, just letting him know he was still there. He sighed, pressed a kiss to Charlie's temple. "I love you, Charlie," he murmured, running a hand over his face. "God, I needed that."  
  
"Me too," Charlie whispered. He held Don close, clung to him as long and as tightly as he could.  
  
Don stroked Charlie's shoulder, just enjoying the feel of being wrapped up together. He knew this was just the start of a long road back for them. He'd hurt Charlie deeply, and that wasn't something either of them could or should just put aside. But he thought as long as they were together, they could handle whatever else life decided to throw at them.  
  
Eventually, the floor became uncomfortable, even with the blankets and pillows. "C'mon. Let's go into the bedroom," Charlie said softly.  
  
"Yeah?" Don asked, pulling back a little to look in Charlie's eyes. "Because I don't mind sleeping out here."  
  
Charlie kissed him gently. "I'm sure."  
  
Don nodded and pushed himself up off the floor with a groan. He was still tired and now his muscles ached a little, pleasantly, after the physical exertion. Offering a hand down to Charlie, he helped him up, kissing him deeply. He wrapped an arm around Charlie's waist, squeezing him affectionately when he paused on the threshold to the bedroom. He pulled back the covers and let Charlie slide in, shifting automatically to his accustomed side of the bed. It wasn't until that moment Don even realized he hadn't bothered trying to take up more space on the bed, choosing to sleep just on one side as before. He slid in next to Charlie and wrapped him in his arms, sighing his contentment.  
  
Charlie snuggled against him, holding as he was being held. "I love you," he whispered.  
  
"I love you, too. Sleep now, buddy. I'll be right here when you wake up," he smiled softly at his brother, kissing his temple again and letting his eyes drift shut.  
  
Charlie let his eyes fall closed. He wasn't so much worried about tomorrow morning, it was the morning after that.  
  
Don slept the sleep of the dead, not waking again until almost 9:00, long past his usual time. He'd curled onto his side in the night and in a moment of panic, he reached his hand back, searching frantically for the warm body that should be next to him, relaxing when he encountered Charlie's solid, sleeping form. Sighing and laughing to himself, a little embarrassed, he turned toward his brother, pressing a kiss into his hair and stroking his curls.  
  
Charlie groaned a little as he was pulled from sleep. He opened big brown eyes and blinked sleepily. "Hey."  
  
"Hey, buddy," Don said tenderly. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Okay. How about you?"  
  
"Better. Much better," he said, tone still soft and morning sleepy. He leaned in to kiss Charlie and felt the tension in his body and his lips. "What is it, buddy? What's wrong?"  
  
He swallowed, trying to find a way to say it that maybe wouldn't cut so deep. "It's just--the morning after was when you told me."  
  
"Oh, Charlie," Don exhaled, sorrow and regret twisting his gut and fresh tears making his eyes shine. "Come here." He gathered Charlie into his arms, holding him tightly and running his hands soothingly along his skin. "I am so sorry I ever caused you that kind of pain," he whispered, pressing kisses into Charlie's hair. "You know, I threw up after you left. And when I was done throwing up, I just sat on the floor and shook for a long time."  
  
Charlie shut his eyes tightly and held on to Don. "Promise me," he whispered. "Please."  
  
"I promise you, Charlie. I'm not going anywhere," Don said softly, stroking his skin. "I promise." He leaned over and kissed him firmly, stroking his hands over his skin again. "I love you, Charlie. I love you so much."  
  
"I love you, too," he said softly. He reached over and stroked Don's cheek. "I promise, it won't always be like that. I won't always need constant reassurance."  
  
"Shh," Don soothed, kissing his throat and his collarbone. "Whatever you need. I'm right here."  
  
"Be with me," Charlie whispered. "Please."  
  
Don paused, looking up at Charlie's face a moment before nodding. He shoved the sheets and blankets aside, shifting to cover Charlie's body with his own. They made love with their lips and tongues and hands, slow and tender, long before their bodies were actually joined again. When Don finally slid deep into Charlie once more, it felt like healing, like starting over, and he knew this time, this time it was forever.


End file.
